


- Love from Jim [MORIARTY X READER]

by MoriartyLover666



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Andrew Scott - Freeform, Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, F/M, Moriarty - Freeform, Sex, Sherlock - Freeform, Smut, martin freeman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:45:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriartyLover666/pseuds/MoriartyLover666
Summary: You and your friends are all having a good night out at the bar... Some guy named Jim was creeping you out, but you were too drunk to care all that much.Next thing you know, you've woken up chained to a bed, and you don't know who's bed.Then you hear them approaching. The door opens, and?It's him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, please bare with me because I am awful at writing fics, but I really want to try my best with this one :)

It was a cold, Saturday evening, and you were having pre-drinks with your friends. You, Samantha, Jasmine, and Chloe were going out to the bar. You were all joking around, getting tipsy, while doing your makeup, and then picking your outfits.

You heard the sound of your taxi beeping outside, and the four of you rushed outside. You hopped in, and arrived at the bar five minutes later.]

You all walked in to loud music, chattering and the smell of alcohol. It was quite busy, so there were no booths, but Samantha spied four bar stools, at the bar - perfect! You were next to a group of guys, but you didn't bother to look at them.

"Uh yeah, I'll have a Vodka and Coke please", You said to the barman. As he handed you your drink, you saw the man next to you, staring at you. When you realised he wasn't planning on looking away any time soon, you nervously looked over at him.

He had dark, slicked back hair, and he was cleanly shaven. He had a toned figure, and was slightly tanned. He was no older than in his mid - twenties, and was wearing a white dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and some dress trousers. He smelled of expensive cologne. You could tell he looked after himself well.

You awkwardly smiled at him, and he smirked back. You didn't pay much attention, but his smirk was filled with lust and coldness, that if you were sober, you would probably try and get away from him. You turned away, expecting he would do the same, and you sipped your drink, trying to join back in your friend's conversation. Though as much as you tried to ignore the man who was still staring at you, it was getting increasingly harder.

You looked back at him, and he looked straight into your eyes, yet didn't say anything. You tried to avert your gaze any where but his eyes, as it made you feel really uncomfortable looking into his eyes, but you seemed to be drawn in to them.

"Is there... Anything wrong?" You asked him politely.

"No?" Said the man, seemingly confused by what you had said.

"Well... Is there a reason you're staring at me?"

"I was just admiring you." He replied, with no emotion this time.

After that, you felt a little bit guilty - he was complementing you, and you had been snappy and defensive with him.

"Oh..." Is all you said back.

Finally, he turned away for a while, allowing you to get intoxicated, to try and hide from the embarrasment that had just went on.

"Jesus (Y/N), you should really slow down on the alcohol!" Laughed Chloe. She had always been a bit of a buzz kill, never wanting you to have too much fun, always quite serious.

"Fuck off Chloe, I'm allowed to drink!"

Once you were very drunk, you and your friends got up to dance to 'Saturday Night by Whigfield'. When the song had finished, everyone clapped for the four of you, and you all just laughed. It was then when your three friends decided to go for a toilet trip.

"You coming (Y/N)?" Asked Jasmine.

"No, I'll go get some more drinks" You replied.

So you went up to the bar, and ordered four Pimms. While you were standing waiting for your drinks, a voice came suddenly up behind you.

"I liked your dancing." - It was the same Irish accent from the man before. He moved onto the stool next to where you were standing, allowing you to confirm it definitely was him.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"(Y/N)" You replied.

"Lovely name. Mine's Jim, nice to meet you" Said the man holding out his hand. You shook it cautiously, still getting strange vibes from this man.

"I can't help but stare at you - you're beautiful!" Said Jim, raising his voice slightly to compete with the loud music, his breath smelt of beer.

"Oh, thanks!" You reply, too drunk to come up with an appropriate answer.

"Yeah, I think you'll do just fine." Jim muttered under his breath, but you didn't hear him, and chose not to ask what he said.

Later on, when the place was getting less busy, some booths became spare, so you and your friends all sat in one. They were all chattering away, and you were so drunk, and the booth sofas were just so comfy, and you fell asleep.

"TOILET TRIP GIRLS!" Squealed Chloe. All three of them simultaneously looked at you sleeping, giggled, and went off to the bathroom. You ever - so slightly opened your eyes, and saw the silhouette of a man above you, staring at you. You were too tired to care, though, and fell back asleep.

 

The next thing you knew, you had woken up with a pounding head - ache. You went to rub your eyes, but realised you couldn't.

When you finally opened your eyes, and looked down, you saw that you were tied to a bed with handcuffs. You had tape over your mouth. It wasn't your bed though, and most certainly wasn't a bedroom you'd ever seen... What happened last night?

Frantically, you looked around for any clues as to where you were, but there was nothing. The room had grey walls, and the bed covers were black with white spots. There was a bedside drawer on the right side of the double bed, indicating that who ever's room this was, was single.

You tried your best to reach for the drawer to get into it, but you were fully tied by both your hands and feet - it was no use.

SLAM!

You hear a door slamming shut, presumably the front door, followed by slowly approaching footsteps coming up the stairs. You wriggle around, terrified, and pulled on your cuffs, causing your wrists to sting. 

The footsteps stopped. They were standing right outside the door of the room you were in, and you knew it - you could sense it. They were listening to see what you were doing. You stopped struggling when you realised, and anxiously watched the door, trying to calm your breathing down. 

The door slowly started to creak open, and your breathing started to get heavy again. When it was fully opened, you saw him. You recognised his face from last night. Oh god. You've been abducted by him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who has actually read this far. Please bare with me because as I said, I really don't know what I'm doing when it comes to writing, yet I love it.

You felt a cold wind blow through the doorway and circle around the room, sending chills down your body, while the man was just standing there, watching you.  **Shit.** You tried to wriggle out of your cuffs, but of course it was no good. He stared at you with a cold, icy look and grinned at your pain.  _Who the fuck was he?_

 

Slowly, he started to approach you. He was wearing a silvery grey suit, and black dress shoes. His hair was slicked back yet again. His shoes tapped on the wooden floor boards as he slowly tread towards you, and you pulled away as far as you could. He stopped when he got right next to the bed. He pulled off the tape on your mouth.

 

 

> **"Hi"**
> 
>  

You let out a small yelp at his voice, it sounded raspy, as if he was angry.

 

"Have a good sleep?" He asked, now looking up at the ceiling, and around the room.  _What were you supposed to say to that?_

 

You tried your best to answer, but your mouth could only make small sounds of terror, as much as you tried to form a word. He stopped looking around the room and looked dead into your eyes, as if pushing you for an answer.

 

"I er yeah, great" You said trying to maintain at least some form of positivity.

 

He looked at you and grinned this time, some life coming back into his dark brown eyes. It then dawned on you what was really happening. This  _fucker_ had kidnapped you. He'd took you away from your friends, your family, your pets, your home,  _your life!_  

 

"Why have you done this?" You asked, anger starting to seethe through your body at this point with the realisation that he was your kidnapper.

 

"Oh sweetie, isn't it quite obvious? I was  _bored_! I had nothing else to do... I'm insane" He replied, with a grin that made you want to knock each and every one of his crooked teeth out.

 

You withheld yourself from replying, as it would probably end up in tears.

 

"So, you remember me from last night then? Probably not, my name is Jim. Jim Moriarty. What a pleasure to have you here." He exclaimed, with that same irritating grin.

 

"If you must know, I do remember you, and I remember being fucking creeped out by you, you fucking psychopath!"

 

"Oh, I'm glad I made such a fleeting impression!" Said he, still grinning.

 

"Let me go you fucking bastard!" You yelled.

 

"Oh not just yet honey, we haven't had any fun yet!"

 

"Fun? What the fuck do you mean _fun_?

 

Without a reply, Jim walked straight back out of the room, leaving you to lay there confused and in pain, with both your head and wrists. Tears started to stream down your cheeks, and you started crying louder, and louder, until -

 

 **"SHUT UP!"** You heard the Irish man yell from downstairs.

 

** 2 hours later... **

 

The familiar footsteps ascended up the stairs, and into the bedroom you were in. It was Jim, holding a sandwich in his right hand, and a glass of lemonade in his left.

 

"I thought you might be hungry, so I made these for you."

 

The man placed the items down on the lone set of drawers next to the bed. He unusually undid one of your handcuffs, to allow you to eat your sandwich, and drink your lemonade. You gave him a confused look, and he just gave you a cold, emotionless look that intimidated you. He stood for a minute as if reading everything about you from your facial expressions and body language. He smirked, walked out, shut the door and locked it. You heard the sound of keys clanging, and assumed he had placed them in his pocket. This was followed by footsteps going downstairs, and then... Silence. Shocked, you picked up the sandwich as best as you could with your right hand (the one he'd freed), and took a bite. It wasn't the best, but it tasted okay. You weren't all that hungry though, so you simply grabbed the lemonade, while the sandwich balanced on your chest, and you sat, slowly sipping your lemonade.

You'd started to dose off, eventually, but soon got rudely interrupted by a vibrating noise, quickly followed by 'Staying Alive' by 'The Beegees' started playing. You heard a faint 'shit' from downstairs, and footsteps dashing up the steps. The Irish man burst in, didn't even glance at you, went into his set of drawers, and grabbed his phone. He answered it, and walked out, closing the door behind him. He stood at the top of the stairs, outside the room though, meaning you could listen to his conversation. You had a thought in your head, telling you that you shouldn't be listening in to his private conversations, as, you know, that's basic manners. But you pushed that away, because it's also basic manners not to kidnap someone, and tie them to your bed.

"Look Sebastian, I'm not going to tell you again. I don't fucking care what kind of a 'connection' you have to this man. He simply needs to be dead. The plan will fail if you don't have him dead. Besides, it's an order. You don't have a choice. You will kill him, or he WILL intervene with my work. You know he tried to get me killed you stupid bastard. This is the second time you've let him away. Sebastian Moran. Ex boyfriend or not, my order is you kill Jonathan Phillips by tonight, or you will die."

The phone call ended.  _Fuck_. He is getting someone to murder their ex boyfriend? That's what I call jealousy, you thought. You suddenly stopped, and really tried to take into account what was happening. You'd been kidnapped, yeah of course that's bad.. But what's worse is that you've been kidnapped by a murderer? What the fuck! Thoughts flew through your head. If Sebastian is this man's boyfriend or husband, then what did he want with me? And you were still confused by what he meant by 'fun'? And off topic, but still confusing, why is a murderer's ringtone staying alive? How ironic. Strangely, you fell asleep, with these thoughts still whizzing around your mind.

 


End file.
